Awaken
by MontanaDolphin
Summary: The battle of the White Witch has been won, but the war to put Westernesse to rights has just begun. This story takes place where the final book in the trilogy left off. Will Aeriel and Irrylath be together in the end? Only time will tell.
1. Author's Note

Author's Note

Please check back often to see if I have added any new author's notes. Since the guidelines state I cannot add author's notes as chapters, I am going to have to add any updated notes here.

**Author's Note 1:**

After finishing the Darkangel Trilogy by Meredith Ann Pierce, I was left without a feeling of closure. I was completely disappointed in the ending, being that I am a sucker for a happy ending. I searched the internet for fan fiction that would put my disappointment at ease. I found this site, but I did not read any of the fan fiction published, choosing to read the reviews first. With most of the comments and reviews asking the authors to finish, I realized that reading the fan fictions would not bring any closure to the story because none of them were complete. So without reading any of them, I decided to write my own.

I am writing my story based on the world the author created as I perceived it...a world set upon Earth's moon. I researched information about the moon, learning that traditional maps placed east on the left hemisphere and west on the right. That is why, in the trilogy, the sun sets in the east and rises in the west. If facing the south pole of the moon, the sun would still rise to the left, but it wouldn't be called the east, it would be called the west. I also learned that an entire day on the moon...sunrise to sunrise...equals approximately 28 Earth days, and that is why the author uses term daymonth. There is two weeks of darkness (two weeks being called a fortnight), and two weeks of daylight. As a result of this, there isn't really a correct term to use equivalent to what we'd call night and day (example: I went to bed and slept through the night. In the morning, I cooked myself some breakfast.) Therefore, I'm using the terms night and day in my story just as we normally would for lack of terms to use as substitutions. I created a map of Westernesse (our moon, the author's world), placing the regions where I could best guess they would be. I use this map to guide me as I write of directions. I'm sure they all won't be right, but I will do the best I can.

I hope you enjoy my fan fiction. It is not finished yet, not even close, but I promise you that I will not allow loads of time to pass between chapters. I write every day, proofreading as I go, re-reading and editing. I will continue to write my story until it is done. I would appreciate any reviews, positive or negative, as I will be checking back frequently to see if anyone has left any. Thank you, and happy reading.

**Author's Note 2:**

I would like to apologize for the delay in publishing the next chapters. I have been writing often, however I've come to find I'm not sure the story is going the way I had originally intended. When I first began to write _Awaken_, I knew exactly how the story would end. I did not, however, realize how lengthy the story would be to get there. This is my first time writing a story, so I was thinking I could type it up in 20-30 chapters. Wow, was I wrong. My story is looking to be the length of a novel.

There may be some changes to previously published chapters, I'm not sure yet. I'm currently writing chapter 8, but I'm going to write a few more before I decide if I'm going to change a few things in the first 4 chapters already published. I need to see how the story unfolds on the screen before I decide. I'm also wondering if it's not best for me to complete the story before I publish any more chapters...I don't like having to go back and make changes to words already read by ya'll. Please, feel free to send me a message and give me your opinions on what would be best for the readers...do I continue to publish chapters written, or do I wait to publish when _Awaken_ is complete?


	2. Preface

Preface

_"Mother! Help me! He'll drink my blood! He'll drink my soul!" _

The sleeping woman thrashed in her bed, sweat beading on her brow. As the dream continued, muffled screams escaped her lips.

_ "It's Aeriel's fault, Mother! She did nothing to stop him from taking me. She ran, Mother, instead of trying to stop him. It's her fault. You must find her. You must make her pay for what she's done!" _

The syndic's wife bolted upright, a scream still on her lips. She swiftly looked about the room, scanning the shadows for the voice that haunted her dreams. As her eyes passed the window, she saw that Solstar had set, and Oceanus hung almost directly in front of her. As she gauged the position of the stars, along with Oceanus, she surmised she had been asleep only an hour. The dreams were coming sooner, then. For a little over a year since her daughter, Eoduin, was taken by the icarus, she had been plagued by the nightmares in the few hours before she awoke for the day. Always her daughter's voice, calling and begging for her to save her from the darkangel.

But this dream had been different. It was the first time that the voice spoke of revenge against the servant girl who had been with Eoduin on the steeps of the mountain. Instead of saving her mistress, Aeriel had run. The syndic's wife knew this to be true before the spirit-voice of her dream confirmed it. She had told her husband, the syndic, that she wanted the slave girl sold at the slave markets in Orm the day-month following Eoduin's capture. But the little drudge had disappeared hours before Solstar had begun to rise in the western sky.

The syndic's wife had been in an uproar. She cursed and flailed at her husband, telling him he had best find the girl so she could be punished for her disobedience. The syndic went straight to Eoduin's nurse, for if anyone knew where Aeriel was, it would be she. But Bomba denied any knowledge of the slave girl's whereabouts, and, fearing the wrath of his wife, the syndic ordered Bomba locked in an empty storeroom until she told him where she was. He returned to the storeroom every twelfth hour but Bomba continued to deny knowing where Aeriel had gone. A fortnight after the disappearance of the girl, the syndic went to the locked storeroom, only to find the old nurse lying unmoving on the floor. She had no breath. His only chance of appeasing his wife and finding the slave girl was as cold as the stone floor she laid upon.

She recalled the day-months following Bomba's death. The syndic's wife could no longer look upon her husband without loathing. It was his fault Bomba never told them the little drudge's whereabouts. If he had but had her beaten, she would have broken her silence. But the syndic refused. Bomba had been his nurse when he was a child, and he could not bring himself to have any physical harm done to her. After four day-months of enduring his wife's hatred and spiteful outbursts, the syndic moved into the opposite side of the house, always careful not to cross her path. That suited her just fine.

As she stared out the window remembering the past, the syndic's wife saw a small figure heading north. She squinted her eyes, and after a few moments she recognized the woman as the madwoman servant, Dirna. Dirna...wasn't she the one who brought Bomba her food and drink? Bomba never told the syndic where Aeriel had gone, but perhaps she had shared her knowledge with Dirna...a fellow servant.

The syndic's wife ran from her room and out into the blue shadowed night, catching up with Dirna within moments. The old servant heard her approach, quickly pulled a bandage over her eyes, turned and said, "Who is there?"

"It is I, your mistress," she replied. "I saw you from my window, walking north towards the edge of the village. What task has you leaving before the household awakens? Has my husband given his consent?"

Dirna smiled. "Yes, Mistress. The syndic knows of my departure. I have been called to serve the Temple of Orm. I told him I must leave at once. He wished for me to wait until Solstar had risen, but I am afraid I cannot delay. There is no point in waiting, for it does not matter if I travel by Solshine or earthshine. These blind eyes cannot be guided by light."

The syndic's wife was shocked. Dirna, called to serve the Temple? Why? What need be there for an old hag who had lost her mind before she even began serving the syndic's house? She shrugged. No matter. She didn't care if the servant made it to the temple, or got lost in Terrain. All that mattered was finding out if Dirna knew anything about the girl responsible for her sweet Eoduin's death.

With feigned admiration, the syndic's wife said, "What a great honor you have been given to serve the Temple. I wish you safe travel as you journey to Orm." She paused. "Before you go, I do wish to ask you something very important. When Bomba was being held in the storeroom all those day-months ago, you were responsible for bringing her provisions, is that correct?"

Dirna quickly hid the expression that sprung upon her face. "Yes, Mistress. I was the one who brought Bomba her food and drink. Poor Bomba. She was such a sweet woman. Loved everyone around her so. It's a shame that she died...but her age finally caught up to her. I think that is what caused her death."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you're right," she replied. "The manner of her death does not concern me. As you know, Bomba was locked in the storeroom because she wouldn't tell us where the servant girl went. An entire fortnight passed and she did not break her silence to the syndic. But you, Dirna, were not her master. You were another slave, perhaps even her friend. Did she ever tell you the location of the child?"

Dirna shook her head. "No, Mistress, I'm afraid Bomba never spoke a word to me of it. She sat in the corner of the storeroom with her hands folded in her lap every time I went to her. The only thing she ever said to me was to leave the food and the water and to be off." Dirna shrugged. "If she knew where Aeriel had gone, she never shared it with me."

The syndic's wife looked at Dirna with suspicion in her eyes. After a moment she turned and looked towards the steeps where Eoduin had gone the day the winged vampyre had take her and whispered, "I don't believe you."

"What's that you say?"

"I don't believe you." This time she said it loudly, almost screaming. She turned and grabbed Dirna by the shoulders, shaking her violently. "You know where she went! Bomba told you! And you're keeping it a secret! You WILL tell me where she is! You will! I don't care if I have to beat it out of you! I can't make her pay for what she did until I find her! I HAVE TO KNOW WHERE THE LITTLE DRUDGE WENT!"

Dirna yelped as soon as the hands were upon her. As she continued to be shaken by the crazed woman, the bandage shielding Dirna's eyes began to slip. She struggled to free her arms, wrenching with more strength than she thought she had. But the syndic's wife's hold never broke. The bandage fell.

The syndic's wife gasped, dropping her hands. "Your eyes! What is wrong with your eyes?" She stared in disbelief. Maybe this was still part of her nightmare. It had to be. There was no other explanation, no sane reason as to what she was seeing, for staring back at her were two red orbs, the color of carbuncles. There were no pupils, nor were there irises. They were solid, glassy red orbs.

Dirna laughed. "What's wrong with my eyes? Oh, there's nothing wrong with my pretty eyes. I see everything around me, better than you do, I'm sure! They are a gift from my one true mistress! The one who gave me back my sight, and at such a small cost! And who better to give them to me then the one who sees all, the water witch, the lorelei!" By now Dirna was laughing hysterically, spinning with arms raised to the sky. She abruptly stopped, looking at the syndic's wife, her red orbs glowing. "Poor old Bomba didn't know where sweet Aeriel went. Neither did I, but I know where she's going. Alas, my mistress wants her, and I'm afraid I can't tell you where Aeriel will be, but..." Dirna paused, raising one eyebrow, making the red orb below look larger than the other. "If you tell me why you have to know, perhaps then..." Dirna let the end of her sentence trail off.

The syndic's wife, frozen since Dirna began her display, found her tongue and replied, "Because she has to pay for what she did to my Eoduin. She did nothing to stop the icarus from taking my beautiful daughter. It should have been her instead. She did nothing, did not try to stop him, did not offer herself as a replacement. Instead she ran like a coward. The icarus took the life, the blood, and the soul of my Eoduin. I want Aeriel's in return."

Dirna lowered her eyebrow. Her lips formed a menacing smile. "Well, I think my mistress may be able to help you with that, for a price."

The syndic's smile mirrored that of Dirna's, the lorelei's catspaw.


	3. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Westernesse had been transformed. A moisture-rich haze blanketed the land, swirling and shifting as the wind carried it from the west. Rivers and streams flowed through the deserts and plains, down steeps and hills into ravines and crevices. No longer white or brown or dull shades of gray, the terrain was filled with life-rich greens and pinks and yellows. Once dry craters were now deep pools of blue. Plants and animals quenched their thirst before dehydration claimed them and turned them to dust. Rain fell from dark clouds above, a sight never before seen by most who lived on this world created by the Ancients. The drought had ended. The White Witch's curse was broken when the battle at Winterock was won.

Erin watched as Solstar vanished over the eastern horizon. Turning her head, her eyes searched for Aeriel. She found her at the base of the grassy dune sitting beside a small pool of water, Oceanus' blue light shining from the twelve and one upright prongs of the crown circling her brow. Aeriel was looking to the south, staring back towards whence they had come, lost in thought. Erin knew what those thoughts contained, or more accurately, of whom. Irrylath. It had been over a day-month since they had left Aeriel's husband, standing with his face buried in his hands, weeping for the wife he was being forced to give up. Erin knew that sight would never leave Aeriel, and how much she longed for Irrylath to be by her side. But it could never be. Aeriel's vow to heal the world of the lorelei's evil would take years to accomplish, consuming all of her time and energy.

As they traveled that first fortnight towards the domed City of Crystalglass, Aeriel had told Erin of the silent words the Ancient had spoken to her the night she accepted the task. Aeriel told her why she vowed to carry the burden and agreed to give up her husband. Aeriel was no longer mortal. She was Ravenna's creation, a golam, a biological construct. She would never age and never bear children. She would watch as Irrylath grew old and she stayed the same. She severed the strings that bound them when she replaced her heart within his breast with that of his own. Irrylath deserved a wife who could stand by him as queen of Avaric and who could produce an heir for his kingdom.

Erin rose and walked down slope towards her friend, stopping when she reached Aeriel's side. Aeriel looked up and smiled. "Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"Well enough," Erin replied. "I awoke as Solstar was setting and I watched as it dipped out of sight. You looked distracted so I waited a spell before I came down. Shall I ask how you fared as I slept? I doubt the answer you'll give me would be any different than what I already know to be true."

Aeriel sighed. Her smile faded as her face changed to express the sorrow she felt inside. "I fared as well as to be expected." Aeriel paused. "I fear for him, Erin. I fear for his heart. I have given it back to him, but will Irrylath give his heart to Sabr as he must? I should have told him we are not truly husband and wife, that I had not wed Irrylath the man but Irrylath the vampyre. The darkangel perished when I took his heart, and Irrylath was reborn. The wedding cup I shared was not with him, but with the evil creature the White Witch had created." Aeriel looked away. She felt like weeping, but could not. When Ravenna's daughter Oriencor, the White Witch, had touched Aeriel's eyes in the icy tower, they had lost the ability to shed tears.

Erin could hear the pain and sorrow in Aeriel's voice as she continued to speak. "I should have told him this, but instead I told him to be my husband in Avaric, absent his wife, for I am to be in NuRavenna. If I had not allowed my love for him to rule my words, perhaps then he would have felt free to wed Sabr."

"Sabr!" Erin spat the name as if it were poison on her tongue. "She is a vulture who sees Irrylath as her next meal. Have you forgotten already how she tried to take him from you before the witch's pin was hammered into your skull? Do you not remember the look of triumphant victory upon her face when you suggested to Irrylath he wed her and make her his queen? Her talons were already upon him as the spirit wives descended to their proper places upon your crown. She did not even wait until you were gone before she took her first bite."

Ariel turned and faced Erin. "She was trying to comfort him because she loves him and does not wish to see him suffer. That alone is reason enough for her to be queen of Avaric."

Erin snorted. "She already _is_ a queen...the queen of _thieves_. She can't hold both titles. And since she's obviously not ready to give up the crown she's already wearing...for you may say she was trying to comfort, but I say she was trying to _steal_, steal his heart from you...looks like Irrylath will have to be looking elsewhere for a new bride."

"She could not steal what was not mine, for I had already given Irrylath's heart back to him. The invisible pull that bound him to me is there no longer, and he is now free to give his heart to whomever he chooses," Aeriel replied.

Erin's voice no longer held any sign of amusement. She said, "He _did_ choose, and it wasn't Sabr."

The pearlstuff that seeped into Aeriel when Oriencor shattered the pearl of the soul of the world began to stir in Aeriel's blood.

Erin said, "Even after Irrylath realized what you had done, that you had taken your heart and replaced it with his own, he still vowed to break Ravenna's hold on you and bring you back to him."

Aeriel remembered the words Irrylath had spoken. "_'I'll win you back," he whispered. "On my life, I swear it! I'll find a way to break the Ancient's spell and bring you back to me.'"_ A feeling of hope began to form in Aeriel as Erin continued.

"He swore on is life, Aeriel. What other reason could he make that oath, but for love?"

_There is no good that can come from hoping, child, _the silent voice inside Aeriel warned. _You have sworn to take my place and restore the world. If you give in to hope, all is lost. The weight on your shoulders is heavy, but there is no other who can succeed in what lies ahead. You must gather my magic and save the world from the damage Oriencor has done._

The hope Ariel had begun to feel winked out before it had time to grow. Ravenna was right. If she did not put the world to rights, all would be lost, including Irrylath, for the world would no longer be able to sustain any living creature.

"Peace, my shadow. It does not matter if he loves me or not. I must continue on the path chosen. Come, forget it, and let's be on our way. We are almost there." Aeriel got to her feet, placing her hand on Erin's shoulder.

Erin stared into Aeriel's eyes, her face softening as she said, "You are right. Speaking of it only brings you pain. There is no point in causing unnecessary sorrow when there is nothing that can be done. I didn't think before I spoke, and I'm sorry."

Aeriel smiled and hugged her friend. "Think no more of it for all is forgiven." Aeriel pulled away and began walking northward towards NuRavenna, her shadow two steps behind her.


	4. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sabr walked up the stone steps and into the hall. Solstarlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the bright colored tapestries that hung from gold braided ropes. A scrawny feline, eyes the color of corundum, sat with two tails twitching as it watched a small rodent poke a whiskered nose out of a small crack in the wall. Servant women clad in kirtles the color of yellow honeyflower polished ornately carved furniture as Sabr passed through the once empty rooms of the castle called Tour-of-Kings.

Turning right, Sabr walked down a dimly lit hallway and ascended the flight of stairs that led to the king's quarters. She did not knock before she opened the door, for she was too furious to abide by common courtesy. She continued through the rooms of the outer chamber, never pausing until she stood in the center of the king's inner suite.

Irrylath was standing on the column-partitioned terrace located on the left side of the room. Although he heard his cousin's approach, he did not turn to acknowledge her, nor did he speak any words of greeting. He continued to stare to the northwest, across the plains of Avaric and towards the border of Pendar.

"Two day-months I have spent with barely a wink of sleep, worry for you haunting my every thought since your departure. You did not tell me you were leaving, nor did you send word of your safety while you were gone. Your long journey to who-knows-where is over, and I hear of your return not from your own lips, but from those of whispering servants as their voices drifted into the keep!" Sabr struggled to keep the anger she felt from seeping into her voice. "Where have you been?"

After few moments, Irrylath turned to face her. "Where I go and where I've been is knowledge shared when I choose to share it, for I am not bound to you as a child is to his mother, nor as a husband is to his wife. Do not speak to me as if an explanation is owed, cousin, because one is not. I did not tell you I was leaving, nor that I had returned, for it was none of your concern."

Sabr's anger turned to frustration. She approached Irrylath and stood before him as she searched his eyes. "I may not know where you've been, but I know why you went. I also know that the result was as fruitless as all the other times you decided to search for a way to release Aeriel from the burden she pledged to carry. If it were not so, the look of irritation and disappointment would not be upon your face as it is now. I do not understand why you persist, when I stand here before you, my heart freely given, if only you'd take it." She touched the five scars that threaded Irrylath's cheek. "Why do you continue to deny my love for you?" she asked. "I belong to you, and you alone, for there is no other I could love more."

Irrylath jerked away, pushing her hand from his face. "But I do not belong to you, Sabr. Aeriel reclaimed her heart and gave me back my own, but my love for her did not die in the exchange. I continue to search for a way to break the Ancient's hold because I cannot bear to be without her. Aeriel is my wife, and her place is here with me, her husband. I will find a way to be with her, or I will die trying. I belong to _her_, and her alone."

Tears sprang to Sabr's eyes as she shook her head in denial. Not since the day Irrylath had sworn to find a way to free Aeriel had he allowed Sabr to touch him. For three years she had suffered, patiently waiting for him to give up his futile quest. His words stung, reality sinking in as Sabr realized with a feeling of hopelessness that all of her efforts had been in vain. She turned and fled from the room, tears spilling onto her cheeks as she ran.

Irrylath watched as Sabr took her leave. It was the first time his cousin had ever wept in his presence. He knew he was responsible for her tears, but he could not bring himself to feel any remorse. He had endured her continuous criticism and spiteful tirades for far too long. He had kept quiet in respect of her feelings for him, but enough was enough. It was time to put an end to her selfish behavior, and if that meant it resulted in tears, then so be it. Uniting himself with Aeriel was far too important to be wasting any more of his time entertaining Sabr's hopes.

Irrylath returned to his place out on the stone terrace. His thoughts turned to Orm. He had gained nothing on his most recent trip, for the sfinx that guarded great the city could offer nothing to aid Irrylath in breaking Aeriel's sworn oath. The stone lyonesse spoke the same words as all the others he had visited...that Aeriel was the one chosen by Ravenna to save Westernesse from her daughter Oriencor's evil. The White Witch had stolen the Ancient's secrets and used them to bring drought to the land. There was no one else who could restore the world to its former glory, and the breaking of the oath Aeriel had sworn was death to them all. So Irrylath had returned home, no closer to achieving his goal than when he had started.

He turned and walked back into the inner chamber. As he prepared himself for bed, he pulled out the wedding sari he had tucked in his waistband. Fingering the yellow silk, he closed is eyes, pulling foremost into his mind the memory of the time he had last spent with Aeriel, her warm body wrapped in his arms. He held on to the memory until he could no longer bear the pain that throbbed in his heart. Refolding the sari, he placed it under his pillow as he laid down to sleep, hand never leaving the soft material.

Roshka nudged Nightwalker into a full gallop as he glimpsed the castle ahead. His small band of travelers had rested only a few hours after crossing the border of Pendar and riding into Avaric, eager to get to the midpoint of their journey home. Irrylath greeted them from the back of the winged steed Avarclon as the mounted group met him at the northern edge of Tour-of-Kings.

"Welcome, Roshka! I can see by the weariness on your face that you are need of rest and food. I'll have my cooks tend to your meal as you and your guards get settled in the guest wing of the castle. After we dine you can tell me of how things are in Pirs. Come, I'll take you to the stables where your horses will be tended to."

"Thank you cousin," Roshka replied as he followed Irrylath up the slope to the castle. "I welcome your hospitality, as do my men."

"Cousin? That reference no long applies. I am married to your sister, therefore I am your brother through marriage. So call me brother. A closer bond than cousin, don't you think?"

Roshka smiled but didn't reply. He knew it not to be the case any longer, but would telling Irrylath the truth change what the man sees to be true?


	5. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Roshka and his men joined Irrylath for the evening meal. There was almost no conversation as they dined on fish, crustaceans, greens and grains. Dessert was served, and after having their fill of cakes, pies, and muffins, the guards retired to their rooms, leaving Roshka to speak with Irrylath of the happenings of Pirs since their lord's last visit to Tour-of-Kings.

"Did you ever discover who was responsible for the trespass you spoke of during your last sojourn with me?" Irrylath asked as Roshka wiped the whiteberry juice from his fingers. Last year Roshka's healer had entered the herbal storage room only to find it had been ransacked. After a thorough inspection of the inventory, the healer informed Roshka that the only item she could discover to be missing was a small vial of coarse brown powder that had been recovered from the flood that swept through the villa after the battle at Winterock had been won. All who did not join the fight against the White Witch, including Roshka's uncle and his herbalists, had perished in the Great Flood. With the herbalists gone, the healer had been unable to identify the substance within the vial nor its uses, therefore unable to advise her lord as to the reason why it had been taken.

"No, I'm afraid not," Roshka answered, placing down his napkin and picking up his cup. "But I fear I now know what was within the vial." He took a sip of his wine and looked at Irrylath. "Hungerspice."

"Hungerspice!," Irrylath exclaimed. Roshka had told Irrylath of how his uncle had fed hungerspice to Aeriel while she stayed in the old suzerain's villa. It causes one's mind to become scrambled, making them forget things that were once important. Those that come under the spell of the vile substance soon forgot places they have been, tasks that lay ahead...the names of people who are no longer a daily presence in their lives. Irrylath frowned. He said, "I thought that accursed poison was no more."

"As did I," Roshka murmured. "We did not know what was in the many vials and herbal containers we recovered from the flood waters when I returned to Pirs. The healer spent much time studying the old herbalist's descriptions of all the substances they had worked with, entries recorded in a book we had recovered as well. The vial that was stolen was one she had yet to identify."

Irrylath was puzzled. "If she was unable to decipher what the mystery powder was, how is it then that you have come to believe it to be hungerspice?" Irrylath inquired.

"Twelve times in the past year my seedsman has discovered the soil disturbed in the villa's garden...deep holes where there once stood orange blossoms upon thorny stalks," Roshka replied as he put down his cup. "The first few times he paid no mind, for after he leveled the ground, the plants had regenerated themselves within a day. But soon he realized there was a pattern to the disappearance of the plants. Not only were they taken from the same location within the garden, but they were taken at the same time each day-month as well...hours before Solstar set, flowers of the plants in full bloom. I asked him what the plants were that had been stolen, but he said he did not know the name. The plants were none of which he had ever come across until he came to serve me in Pirs. He thought the bright blooms to be a beautiful accent to the landscape of the garden and did not want to replace them." Roshka looked away. "I took the seedsman to the healer and had him describe the plants to her. The healer's face, eyebrows creased in concentration as she leafed through the pages, turned pale as she came across the page that contained the identity of the missing plants. Called blaze-of-oblivion, the plant is the raw element of hungerspice."

Glancing back, Roshka wondered if Irrylath had put the pieces together yet, but the king's expression betrayed only the faint stirring of understanding. "The flowers must be in full bloom when they are removed and then hung to dry," he continued. "The dried petals are then steeped in a large bowl of water in which the roots of the plant are placed to soak for a fortnight. After the roots have been removed and dried, they are ground into a _coarse brown powder_."

Roshka watched as Irrylath's furrowed brow of confusion turned to a look of complete comprehension. "The same as that of the unknown substance that was missing from the herbal storage room," murmured Irrylath.

"Aye, the same," Roshka said, "but there's more. A handful of people from my villa have disappeared. Each case carried the telltale signs of hungerspice...muddled minds, growing thinner when appetites have become larger, forgetting themselves."

Roshka crossed his arms. "Do you remember how I told you of what befell Aeriel when she was under the effects of the hungerspice? How she began to forget of things...of people she loved, including you, whom she loved above all others?" At Irrylath's stiff nod, Roshka continued. "The last person to address the issue of the disappearances with me was a woman who awoke to find her daughter not in her bed. She waited four days before she decided to come to me, thinking perhaps her daughter would return. But the daughter's husband...a man she had wed in secret...for the mother would never approve of the union between her daughter and a man of lower status...had come to the girl's home in a confused panic. He told her of their marriage, and that every fifth day since they would meet at the edge of the orchard. It was the only time they spent together since no one knew of their union. The daughter had not arrived for their meeting the week prior, nor had she shown the same evening he decided to speak to her mother.

"You see, the same of which happened to Aeriel had befallen the woman's daughter. She loved the man enough to marry him knowing she would eventually have tell her mother of the secret union. And yet, she leaves without telling her mother _or_ her husband." Exasperated, Roshka uncrossed his arms and leaned forward over the table, saying, "I don't know how, or _why_, but someone is feeding my people hungerspice." He retreated and sat back up in his chair.

"The theft of the vial was the first time the thief-or thieves-stole past my guard unnoticed. Every day-month since, right before the dawn of the next, they do the same." The flame of the lampwick flickered as Roshka's fist came down hard on the table. "I don't know how they are doing it! I have doubled the patrols and yet they are still able to sneak past and make their way into the garden. If I cannot prevent the thieves from getting their hands on the blaze-of-oblivions, then there's no way of stopping the spread of hungerspice that is cursing my people!" Roshka was fuming with rage.

Irrylath was filled with disgust as Roshka finished. He did not wish for the foul poison to alter anyone's mind, not even that of a stranger. His own mind reeled as he tried to think of a solution. One thing was certain...Roshka's guards couldn't stop what they couldn't find. Then again, the thieves couldn't steal what wasn't there, either. Irrylath smiled as he spoke of what he perceived to be the solution. "Why not just kill all of the plants?" he asked. "If you get rid of the blaze-of-oblivions, there will be nothing for the thieves to steal."

The suzerain had started shaking his head before Irrylath had finished speaking. "Do you think I have not already tried that? For every one I destroy, two more take its place. I even had Pirsalon dig them up with his great antlers, the Ion digging further down than any of the thieves could have ever hoped to," he said, bitterness in his voice, "but still they grow back. The blaze-of-oblivions just will not die."

Irrylath felt cold. The great stag of Pirs was unable to destroy the plants as well? How was that possible? All things that live can die.

His thoughts were interrupted as Roshka spoke again. "I just don't know what else I can do. With the hungerspice being odorless, colorless, and tasteless, it can be consumed virtually undetected. There is no way for anyone to know if it is in their food or their drink. My people are completely at the mercy of the miscreant responsible, just as Ariel was to my uncle."

Just as it did before, Irrylath's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his wife's name. He waited to see if Roshka would speak any more of Aeriel. This had been Roshka's second trip to visit his twin sister in the City of Crystalglass, and the second time he had stayed in Tour-of-Kings before continuing home. During Roshka's first visit to the castle, Irrylath found out where Roshka had been and pounded his bride's brother with questions and words to take back to Aeriel, but Roshka refused to answer nor to deliver. He said that Aeriel had made him promise not to speak of her to Irrylath, and when Irrylath asked him why, he replied, "When I asked her that same question, she said, 'What good can come from it, brother? I cannot leave NuRavenna to be with him, and his duties require him to stay in Avaric. I've only collected a fraction of the pearl's shattered pieces, the rest still scattered all over Westernesse. At the rate I'm going, half a century will have passed before I have gathered them all. And once gathered, I must use Ravenna's magic to put the world to rights. Who knows how long that will take. I have to devote all my time and energy to this task before it's too late and the Ancient's machines collapse into dust. I have to gather the pieces, and whilst doing that, I'm having to learn the Ancient's language, which is part of learning the magic. And once all of the pieces of the pearl are gathered, I must learn the rest of the magic required to rebuild the machines and get them back into working order. Don't you see? There is no hope for us to be together.'" After that, Roshka had spoken no more of Aeriel, saying that he had already said more than he should.

Irrylath remembered the conversation as if it were yesterday. Somewhere in those words there was a clue to breaking the Ancient's hold on Aeriel, but the answer was as elusive today as it was when the words were first spoken. Irrylath brought his attention back to Roshka. "Did you ask Aeriel if she had any answers to your problems?"

Roshka stared, astonished Irrylath would think he'd burden Aeriel with this, as if she hadn't enough already to worry about. "Of course not!" he exclaimed. "She's got way to much to do than to be bothered with the problems brewing in my kingdom. I don't want to add anything to delay her progress. I never speak to her of any of it. When I do visit, I see her when we dine, but that's it. She retreats into her quarters with Ravenna's old companion, Melkior. He has been the one teaching Aeriel the words of the Ancients. When I'm not sharing a meal with Aeriel, I'm with Erin. She keeps me company between mealtimes."

"Erin doesn't like me much," Irrylath murmured. "I don't think she's forgiven me for what happened at camp before the battle at Winterock."

Roshka laughingly replied, "Well what do you expect? You tried to kill her with the Blade Adamantine. Be happy you missed, for I don't think my sister would ever forgive you had you been successful."

Irrylath knew Roshka spoke the truth. Aeriel would never have forgiven him if he had been responsible for the death of her friend. He also knew Roshka must have forgotten the promise he had made not to speak of Aeriel, and pressed on before Roshka remembered. "So the only time you get to spend with my wife is during meals? That must be hard after the long journey you make to see her. Does Aeriel not take more time to visit with you, brother?"

Roshka's amused expression changed to one of melancholy. He felt the weight of the truth return as it did every time Irrylath spoke of the marital status he still believed to share with Aeriel. As Roshka returned Irrylath's gaze he decided that he could not keep the truth from his cousin any longer. "Irrylath, she is not your wife, and I am not your brother. Not any longer. I see now that keeping silent was a mistake, for you cannot hide the longing in your voice when you speak her name."


	6. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Irrylath's nonchalant demeanor diminished as he shot up from his chair. "What is this nonsense you speak of? Of course she is my wife! We were wed when we drank our wedding toast in this very castle! The only way to break the bond is if one of us dies, or one of us were to wed another. Is that why you speak such madness? Has Aeriel wed another?" he cried., his expression had changing from one of dark fury to one of pure anguish in a matter of seconds.

"No, cousin, she has not wed another," Roshka said, looking down as he fiddled with the napkin he had used to wipe his fingers. He dreaded having to speak the words he knew would not relieve Irrylath's pain, but amplify it instead. "I never thought I would deliberately have to break my word to my birth sister, but I cannot keep silent any longer. It has been a little over three years since she left you in the desert and made her way to NuRavenna. I had hoped by now that you would have moved on, letting go of her, letting go of the past, moving forward and taking Sabr as your wife. But instead I hear that you still travel, searching for a way to free her from her oath." He looked up, watching as Irrylath moved to stand in front of the fire burning in the fireplace. Roshka rose to join him by the flames, watching the dancing light as he continued.

"Fynn, one of the trackers I have set to to the task of searching for the thieves, was recently in Orm following a lead. When he returned to Pirs, he told me that he had seen you leaving the city by way of the northern road leading away from the temple. He had spoken to the sfinx, hoping she may have seen or heard something regarding the thieves, and inquired as to whether or not you had paid her a visit while you were there. She told him you had, but she could not give you the answer you were seeking, and sent you on your way." A lone spark leapt from the flames and onto the stone floor, flaring brightly before it went out. Irrylath's gaze didn't stray.

Roshka sighed. "The first time I went to visit my sister, she had asked how you fared. It was before she asked me not to speak of her to you. I told her that you had returned to Tour-of-Kings, but had not yet wed Sabr, insisting you already had a wife and would not wed another." Roshka's eyes rose from the flames to look upon Irrylath's face.

Roshka said, "Aeriel did not take the news well. Her eyes betrayed the tears that could no longer fall. I could see the pain in them as she fought to hide it from me. She turned and bid me follow her into a room tiled in blue and white marble. At the center stood a pedestal, awash in a glowing iridescent light. She guided me to it, and as we drew closer I realized the light that lit the pedestal was coming from a transparent box sitting at the top. She opened the box and took out a tiny glowing fragment from within."

Irrylath turned from his place by the fire and took a seat on the upholstered settee at the edge of the sitting area in front of the fireplace. Roshka followed and sat beside him, continuing on with his story.

"Ariel turned to me and said, 'This is one of the pieces of the shattered pearl that I have found. The power inside will allow you to see me as I truly am.' She took the fragment, touching it to both her skin and the silver chain that hung from her wrist. Her skin became translucent, and a myriad of thin fibers danced and twisted as the power of the fragment spread and her entire body was flooded with the flowing strands." Irrylath's head jerked around to face Roshka. He stared at him with a look of horror and disbelief as Roshka continued.

"It took me a few moments to realize that what I was seeing was not an illusion. 'What is it?', I asked Aeriel. She answered, 'It is what kept me from turning into dust. The pin that the White Witch's rhuk fastened behind my ear was not made to be removed without killing me. When Ravenna pulled the pin from my head, all but a fraction of what I was perished. She created this body to house all that remained: my heart, or _Irrylath's_ heart rather, my eyes, my mind, and my soul.' Aeriel removed the glowing pearl fragment and returned it to the box. Her skin began to shadow, the glowing filaments disappearing as she became solid once again. 'I am a biological composition, a reproduction...an exact replica of what I was before.' Aeriel's face twisted into one of disgust. 'I am a golam.'"

A strangled cry burst from Irrylath's lips. "No!", he roared, standing up to tower over Roshka. "Golams are all gears and wires, unable to generate warmth. She cannot be one of those creatures...I felt her heat as I held her the night we shared before the Ancient enchanted her and stole her from me!" Irrylath's body trembled with fury.

"Not gears and wires," Roshka snapped as he rose in response to the rage directed at him. "That is only how we have perceived them to be. Ariel, like Melkior, is not as the underground machines are. _Those_ are made up of gears and wires." He paused, calming himself before he spoke again. Lowering his voice he said, "Ariel is still flesh and blood, cousin. She is made of skin and muscle and bone, just as we are. But as a golam, she is no longer mortal."

Irrylath sat, shaking as Roshka's words sank in. Aeriel no longer mortal? Was this the reason she chose to leave him? Why she told him to take Sabr as his wife and make her queen of Avaric? He turned to look as Roshka sat back down on the seat beside him. Irrylath murmured, "Mortal or not, she is still my wife..."

Before Irrylath could say more, Roshka shook his head and said with a sigh, "No, she is not. She has not been your wife since the time she took your heart from your chest while you were still a winged vampyre and replaced it with her own." He put his hand on Irrylath's shoulder. "She did not marry _you,_ cousin, she married the darkangel you once _were_." Roshka's voice carried the compassion he felt for the broken man sitting beside him. "Just as you did not marry her, but the mortal woman she once was." He pulled his hand back, running it through his hair. Weariness hit him like a bolt of lightning. Tears pooling in his eyes, Irrylath sat shaking his head in vehement denial as Roshka rose to his feet.

"I am sorry, my friend. I wished to save you from this sorrow, but I'm afraid this is the reality you must face. Give up on your senseless crusade. Take on a wife and make her queen of Avaric. Your kingdom needs an heir." With that, Roshka strode from the hall to retire, leaving Irrylath to his own thoughts as he sat weeping with his head buried in his hands.

Sabr retreated into the shadows. Quietly, she made her way down the hall and descended the flight of stairs that led into the barracks. As captain of the guard, Sabr's bedchamber was here amongst those of the men. She entered her room, closing the door behind her, a victorious smile lighting her face. She had heard everything.

A fortnight had passed since the night she had fled from the king's rooms. Since then she had spent all of her time in the practice fields, venting her anger and her humiliation through the sword she wielded on her opponents. This eve, as she was returning from a satisfying spar with her second in command, she had heard Irrylath's voice coming from the dining hall, but had stopped short when she realized he wasn't alone. After a moment she recognized the other voice as that of Roshka, the sovereign of Pirs. So, the suzerain had been visiting his sister. It's the only time Roshka ever came to the castle...on his journey home from NuRavenna. She crept to the edge of the doorway, keeping herself hidden as she had listened to their conversation.

Now in her bedchamber, Sabr savored the feeling of jubilant triumph as it coursed through her veins. Irrylath could not deny her now. She was a living, breathing, mortal soul, unlike that of the creature that was now Aeriel. Only mortal women could bear children. Golams were not the mechanical dolls she had thought they were, but they still could not bring life into the world. Aeriel may be flesh and blood, but she had lost the ability for the seed of life to plant itself and grow in her womb when Ravenna saved her from the witch's pin. Irrylath would no longer claim that he belonged to Aeriel, and he would be free to wed Sabr.

Sabr gathered herself and walked back towards the hall. Masking the elation she felt, she silently glided across the room, seating herself in the place beside Irrylath that now lay vacant. Pulling his hands from his face, she gathered them into her own and said, "My king, my Irrylath. Do not weep my love, I am here." She pulled his head to her breast, stroking his hair as she continued. "I know it will take time, but the pain will ease, you'll see. Your heart will mend, and then we can be married. I have waited this long for your heart, I can wait a little longer."

Irrylath froze, Sabr's words breaking through his pain and anguish. He jerked his head from her grasp, bolting to his feet. "How is it that you know of words spoken that were not meant for your ears? The conversation between Roshka and myself was private, and your eavesdropping is a perfect example of your deliberate intrusion into affairs that are none of your concern!"

Sabr did not let his words thwart her. She knew he would be hers now, and once the shock of what Roshka had told him had passed, Irrylath would realize it as well. She rose to stand beside him.

"Love, love, calm down. I did not mean to eavesdrop. I was returning from the practice fields when I heard the pain in your voice as I was passing by, and I got concerned." She reached up and wiped a tear from his cheek. "I am here for you, as I always have been, to love you, to comfort you." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "You felt something for me once, Irrylath. I think all you need is a little reminder." Sabr began to raise her lips to his.

The only reason Irrylath had not shoved Sabr away when she had put her arms around him was solely due to the shock he felt at the liberties she was taking. The shock vanished as he realized she was leaning in. He flung her arms from around his shoulders, pushing her down onto the settee.

"Do not think for one moment that what you heard has changed anything," he spat.

"Of course it has," Sabr scoffed. "Aeriel is no longer _living_, Irrylath. Her heart beats but not to pump mortal blood." She straightened her vest as she rose to a sitting position. "What is the point of dwelling on a future that can no longer include her?"

"My future _does_ include her!" he fumed. "She could be a spirit wraith floating on the breeze and it would not matter! Mortal or not, _wife_ or not, she is still the keeper of my heart!"

Sabr's mouth dropped at she stared at Irrylath in horror. "How can you feel this way? She can no longer have children, Irrylath! There is no way for her to be in your future, for she cannot bring you an heir!"

Irrylath's icy gaze chilled her to the bone. Bracing his hands on the armrest on either side of her, he leaned forward, stopping within an inch of her face. His voice dropped to a menacing whisper as he said, "Do you honestly believe that matters to me? If having Aeriel by my side means my bloodline ends with me, then so be it. The only wife...past _or_ future...I will _ever_ have...is _her_." He pushed himself up, turned on his heel and stalked from the room.


End file.
